Heart's Desire
by Chi Shiro
Summary: Emma and Hank have a "friendly" chat over Bobby. Slash.


Heart's Desire

Beast/Iceman

The words spoken in the library have been hijacked from Marvel. They own them, as well as the X-men, and I make no money off of them. This contains major spoilers for New X-Men issue 131. All I claim to own is the internal monologue and the flashbacks. I swear I get paid in nothing more than reviews.

A/N: When I first wrote this I was particularly pissed off at Marvel for issues 131 and 134. As such, the grammar and spelling stank to high heavens. Unfortunately, I didn't notice it at the time. Oops. With my humblest apologies I offer up a revised version for your reading pleasure.

Because Emma and Hank's interesting discussion in the library should have gone in a different direction.

~Memories~

/Telepathy-Thought/

He idly scanned the volumes of text lining the walls. Most of the personal sections were musty and rarely used for things other than lectures given by their owners. Hank and, unbelievably enough, Bobby tended to be the only teachers in the mansion whose personal sections of the library were given a thorough workout.

One claw traced over the very same encyclopedia that Bobby had used to pass him notes in class when they were students at the school. Its pages were well worn from nearly five years of the forbidden activity. Certain sections had been used more than others, but Bobby's sense of humor had caused him to leave some notes under rather odd headings. Hank chuckled idly as he recalled the note about his first girlfriend was found under the title of "Bitch".

Emma watched him with bemused interest from an overly stuffed leather chair. He was projecting again, love so deep that even non psychics must be picking up on it. She tapped her golden cigarette holder against the ashtray as she considered tossing something at him.

/How sickeningly saccharine they are. I think I need a dose of insulin just to survive being around them. Those two should buy a house in the suburbs and raise beagle pups./ She chuckled kittenishly to herself. /Or would the little dickens think Hank was their chew toy?/

He grasped the volume in his paws, never once turning to look at her. The tense silence in the room was enough for those not blessed with telepathic gifts to detect. He didn't want to be pulled into this twisted game she was playing with the X-men. Even if she was no longer on the working against them, she played with them as if they were her personal pawns. They were lives to be manipulated for her pleasures. The fact she had once lusted after Bobby, deeply enough that she had been driven to possess him, did not help in the matter.

"So do I detect you're in agreement with Scott on this particular issue," His question was loaded, "You think I'm being deliberately provocative?"

/You bitch,/ He quelled his rising growl at the thought. It would further add fuel to her self righteous fire. /Where do you get off deciding what's best for anyone's life? Dear lord, I should have volunteered to work with Bobby in Warren's place./

"Henry, darling," she smiled in smug satisfaction as his fur bristled under her tone. She further honeyed her words, allowing them to ooze like thick sap. /Always Bobby, Bobby, Bobby. You can't hide from him forever, you know. One day you'll have to tell him you did this for him/, "I'm one of the world's most renowned and prurient telepathic talents."

He listened half heartedly to her boastings. His mind was heavily focused on the book in his hands. In teenaged scrawl, nearly two decades old, was a simple message. Ironically it had been left under the title "Puppy Love".

"Hank, let's ditch biology class and go to Harry's for a burger and a shake. What do you say?  
-Bobby."

/Oh Robert/ He sighed deeply in a regret that was as old as the note itself. He had attended his biology lesson instead. This after adamantly promising to buy Bobby one of Harry's infamous specials and to catch the young cryomorph up on the lesson he would be skipping. Hank found him patiently sitting at a booth, well past lunch, instead of coming back to the house to scrounge for food. He'd waited the entire time, knowing Hank would eventually come  
for him. /Would you have stayed there all night waiting for me? Would I have done the same for you?/

"I actually know for sure that you've never had any kind of physical relationship with a man," she read his interview in "News Now" with the same interest he was giving to her lecture. There was nothing in it she didn't already know, except his thickly veiled hinting that his current interest was a fellow X-man. /Though I know you want to so badly you can taste him on the tip of your felinoid tongue./ Her grin was evil as she bombarded him with the one kiss he had shared with another male. Bobby was kissing him, quite drunkenly, under the mistletoe at Christmas so many years ago. /There you go, kitty, kitty. Let Auntie Emma remind you of just what you'll never have./

The mewl that burbled forth was pitiful as image after image washed over him, threatening to drowned him in pleasant memories. How could any one creature on this planet be as cruel as the White Queen? Was this pay-back for calling her a villainess?

~ The mansion shimmered in a cascade of colors. Scarlet bulbs, golden stars, and glistening ivory candles hung from an impressive Douglas Fir that had taken Hank and Scott nearly the entire afternoon to haul through the doorway without damage. Jean and Bobby had then proceeded to string homemade, tie-dyed tinsel; icicles, and garlands around the free spaces. Warren was jokingly calling it the Christmas acid flashback.

Sapphire lights were strung over much of the outside, casting their lives in a heavenly blue glow. It was a stark contrast to the multitude of multi-colored blinking lights Bobby had set about placing in every possible nook and cranny. Evergreen and mistletoe proudly stood out on each doorway.

Hank stared outside in awe at the winter wonderland their resident frost demon had managed to create. Ice sculptures of the team were scattered about in strategic locations, the bulbs for the security lighting changed to cast them in brilliant shimmering shades of frost bitten color. The snow had been arranged, just-so, so that the blizzard he had summoned wouldn't hurt the trees. He smiled fondly as he noticed that there were no individual ice sculptures of Bobby or himself. They only existed together.

"Hank," a cheery voice cried out to him above the din that reverberated through out the entirety of the house. The crass shrill of off tune Christmas carols had been enough to drive their headmaster and his friend into the study, leaving them unsupervised. It was amazing what noise five teenagers could make when they set their minds to it, "You gotta come join the party!"

He took note that his friend must have sampled heavily of the spiked eggnog Warren made for the occasion. He, himself, was a little cautious of drinking something that was a 'Worthington secret recipe'. But who was he to argue with a happy Bobby? Correction, he noted as his ass was pinched; a very drunken, happy, and somewhat clingy Bobby.

"Oh H-a-n-k," Bobby purred with a hint of mischief as he led him to a heavily decorated doorway. Even before his mutation had gifted him with fangs, Hank had possessed a wicked smirk. He felt it tugging the corners of his lips as he caught a glimpse of the striptease Scott was performing on the coffee table. He really would have to remind fearless of where all the money Warren was stuffing down his briefs had come from. That is to say, if Jean didn't  
beat him to it, "Look upwards, Hankster."

Blue eyes focused on the door jab, catching sight of a multitude of green plants with beautiful red and white berries. It seemed as if Bobby had covered the entire frame with the decoration, "Why, that would appear to be mistletoe, dear Robert."

The younger boy nodded like a hopeful puppy awaiting a treat. He leaned in closely, pressing the full length of his lithe body against Hank's. And length was a very good word to use, considering Bobby was practically grinding against his thigh in anticipation. Hank had always considered himself to be a very chivalrous person. It was a lucky break for Bobby, who may have otherwise found himself on his back.

Hank gave a mock sigh of resignation as he swooped down and planted a chaste kiss on his friend's lips. Bobby, however, had other plans as he wound his hands around Hank's neck. Left with one option, Hank returned the gesture and deepened the kiss, wanting so badly to take Bobby upstairs and say to hell with the party. He knew though, in his heart of hearts, that this was nothing more than a drunken reaction and didn't wish to lose Bobby's friendship over a single night of passion. ~

"I even know," Emma purred, releasing her hold on his mind, daring him to challenge her about the images. They both knew she would take the information of just what Hank had wanted to do that night straight to Bobby. Hank had yet to accept that idea as being plausible, "you made hoax phone-calls to superheroes'' headquarters when you were younger, didn't you?"

She gently stroked the side of her head, brushing his mind with her own, awakening memories of the past, "Always something of a practical joker, hmm," she pursed her lips like a stern, elderly school teacher.

~ The glistening ball of latex soared downwards. Two sets of eyes trained on the unfortunate victim below, the anticipation palatable. The shimmering water balloon hit the target directly, knocking Scott flat on his back.

"Robert," Hank rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying not to smile at his friend, "What have I told you about icing the water balloons?"

"To try and cut back on it?" ~

Four inch high platforms tapped restlessly against the desk. She really had expected a bigger rise out of him than this. It had been so easy to get under Bobby's skin with just the reminder of that so long ago Christmas. How Bobby had spent the rest of the night in a cold shower praying for forgiveness to any deity that would listen for thinking about his best friend like that. She truly didn't understand why Hank was different.

"The Institute's," she chastised, pulling out the last usable card she had. Well, unless she wanted to play the, "I'm telling Bobby", card, and that was too precious to waste, "already being portrayed as some Boho experiment in mutant sociology. These outrages statements you been making do nothing but fan the flames of controversy."

He whipped around, the building growl a presage to his mood. A look of utter contempt for his leather clad, fellow teacher marred his normally gentle features. She had been playing with his buttons for the entirety of the night and he'd had quite enough of it.

"I'm doing this to challenge preconceived notions about language, gender, and species," his smile was a bit off-colored, taunting her, "I'm also learning to play the drums. Please excuse me, Emma. I have medical class in five minutes."

She smirked idly in his direction. She would let him think he had won this battle, something to stroke his overtly masculine ego, but the war was far from over. She had a feeling Beast would be in for a rather interesting treat when things finally reached their culmination.

The ending ties in with a story I have been re-inspired to work on. It may be a few months (or so) but if the interest is there I will get "Take me as I Am" out to you all. I personally think that issue of New X-men was begging to be parodied.

Kisses, slashy wishes, and Bobby/Hank dreams to you all,

-Chi


End file.
